


My King

by heelnev



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Kayfabe Compliant, M/M, even tho wade being around is kinda AGAINST kayfabe but shhhhhh, listen it's as happy as a fic with a sad neville can be, or.... happy-ISH
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 15:07:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11808471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heelnev/pseuds/heelnev
Summary: Wade helps Neville deal with losing the Cruiserweight title.Set during the 8/14/17 edition of Raw.





	My King

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cruisingforcruiserweights](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cruisingforcruiserweights/gifts).



> Guess who's upset about Nev losing the title??? THIS GIIIIIIRL
> 
> Set in an AU where Wade never left WWE (my fave one tbh) and ended up becoming Evil Heel Buds with Neville.

Wade felt his heart drop when he saw the referee count to three.

Never did he imagine that that night's episode of Raw would end up this way. Neville had been so confident, so  _sure_ going into his match with Tozawa that he would come out on top. He the was the  _King_ after all, and there was no damn way that royalty would fall to a peasant. Wade remembered how Neville was holding the belt on his shoulder almost lovingly, like it was one of the most important things in the world to him -- hell, it _was_ one of the most important things to him. He had no intention to ever lose it.

Fate had other plans, clearly.

Wade wasn't even sure what to think after he heard the bell ring, his mind barely processing the sight of Tozawa being lifted on to Titus's shoulders in celebration. People around him were celebrating and cheering, some of Tozawa's fellow cruiserweights heading over to greet him and congratulate him on the big win, but Wade was completely lost. Had had no idea how he should feel.

Christ, and if he was dealing with this anguish, he couldn't even begin to imagine how _Neville_  felt in that moment. His whole world has suddenly come crashing down around him all because he got a little overconfident and tried to hit a Red Arrow. Neville was too damn sure of himself, too damn cocky. Wade had told him before that he needed to slow down, but he never listened, and it ended up costing him greatly in the end. He bought into his own hype and ended up losing one of the greatest things to have ever happened to him.

But now wasn't the time for any "I told you so's". Right now, Wade was dead set on doing whatever he could to help him.

Wade immediately began to search the hallways, trying to think of all the places where Neville could have possibly gone. He wouldn't have gone to the locker room since there were too many people (who would all no doubt have some smartass remarks to make about the 'fall of the King'). Likewise, he wouldn't have gone to catering either. Even if no one would say anything there, the  _looks_ that he would be getting from everyone would be too much to handle. Wade cursed himself for signing with a company filled with so many inconsiderate bastards.

He stopped dead in his tracks a few minutes later when he caught sight of a few backstage workers crowding around a person. A little more investigating revealed that that person was Neville, who wasn't even reacting to whatever it was that he was being told. It didn't look like he was being harassed, but Wade could tell just by Neville's posture and his fists clenching and unclenching that he was close to breaking down. Fake well wishes coming from people who Neville barely even knew was the last thing that he needed at that moment, and Wade knew that he needed to step him, a surge of anger rising in him.

"Hey, hey, back off, would you?!" Wade stormed up to them and shoved them away, defensively putting an arm in front of Neville. "He's not interested in whatever the hell you have to say. Go on now, get out of here!" Wade shooed them off.

It was only after they had left that Wade turned to look at Neville, whose eyes were still glued to the ground. Wade gently rested a hand on his shoulder, prompting him to finally look up. Wade could see that his eyes were slowly filling up with tears, and his grip on his shoulder tightened. He had only ever seen Neville cry one other time, and that was at Wrestlemania after he retained. Those were tears of joy. These were anything but.

Wade looked around and saw that there were still a few people loitering about. He knew that they needed to get away. "Hey," he started softly, taking Neville's face in his hands. "Let's go somewhere else, yeah? Somewhere more private." He took hold of Neville's hand, his own being gripped almost unnaturally tight as he led him over to an empty corner of the arena.

He let go of his hand when they arrived at some equipment crates. Neville took note of a gap between one of the crates and the wall, and he sauntered over to it, leaning against the wall and slowly sliding down until he was sitting. He pulled his knees up close to his chest, burying his face in them. Wade saw that the gap was big enough to fit the two of them and he sat down next to him. It was eerily quiet, so the sound of Neville's choked sobs seemed even louder, even more mournful, and Wade's heart hurt in his chest.

Slowly, Wade wrapped one of his arms around Neville's shoulders, holding him close. He could feel that Neville was shaking, hard, and his hold on him tightened. Wade wanted to kick the ass of whoever the hell decided to do this match  _tonight_ instead of at Summerslam, where it was originally scheduled. Neville was suddenly told out of the blue right as the show started that he would be defending, and he had hardly any time to prepare himself. He was so sure that he was going to win still, but he had no time to come up with an effective strategy. He was put in an unfair position from the very beginning.

Neither of them said anything for a long while, Wade ultimately being the one to break the silence. "I know you'll win it back," he said. "You're the King. You can do anything."

"I can't fucking _retain_ , that's for damn sure," Neville replied, his face still down. "I'm no King."

"Don't stay that," Wade gently admonished him. "You've been busting your ass for months and helped the fans start to see the cruiserweights as important. You've been carrying the damn division on your back. You're definitely the King."

"How can I be the King if I... don't have my title?" Neville hesitated saying the second half of his sentence, like the realization that he was no longer champion was hitting him all over again.

"The title isn't what made you a king. You don't need a damn purple belt to tell people that you're important -- people already  _know_ that through your actions. You've more than proven your worth."

"But I want it." Neville lifted his face, his eyes puffy and red. "I don't care if I don't 'need' it, I  _want_ it." His fists clenched. "I'm invoking my rematch clause for Sunday. I'm gonna get it back even if it fucking kills me."

"I'll be watching. And I'll be right there to congratulate you after you win it back." Wade smiled reassuringly, giving Neville's shoulder a small squeeze.

Neville swallowed, resting his head against the wall. The cool stone felt good against his burning face, but it did nothing to help with his mood. "Wade..." He asked, his voice a little shaky. "Do you think that it's... bad that I lost the title now? Right when I was so close to two hundred days?"

"You really were close to that milestone, weren't you..." Great.  _Another_ reason for Wade to be pissed off at management. They forced Neville to defend right when he was so  _close_ to hitting such an important mark. They knew there was a chance he could lose, and they did it anyway.

"I couldn't hold on to it for three more fucking days..." He went to put his face back down, but Wade stopped him by cupping his cheek.

"But you held it for _one hundred and ninety seven days_. You didn't hit two hundred, yes, but you made it that far. Look at the other guys who've been champion -- TJ, Kendrick, Rich... They weren't champ for even half the amount of time that you were. You are so goddamn amazing for keeping this up for so long."

"Wade..."

"I am so fucking proud of you, you know that? And I always will be. You went from someone who no one cared about to one of the most feared guys on the whole roster. You truly are spectacular, and you're always going to be the King --  _my_ King. Title or no title."

At that moment, Neville wordlessly leaned in and pressed his lips to Wade's, whose eyes shot open wide in shock. It took him barely any time to recover, and he kissed him back, his hand sliding up to rest on the back of Neville's head. The kiss was sloppy, desperate, but they didn't stop or pull away. They  _couldn't_.

When they finally did separate, Wade let out a small, awed breath, and he noticed that fresh tears had started rolling down Neville's cheeks. He wiped them away with his thumb, offering him a small smile.

Neville took a deep breath, resting his head on Wade's shoulder and saying, "I... I need to go lie down."

"Go wash up and get changed, okay?" Wade stood up and offered his hand to help Neville to his feet. The show was almost over. In the time it would take Neville to gather himself, it would be time for them to leave. "Then we can go back to the hotel together."

"I'd like that." Neville took his hand and slowly got up. "Wanna walk with me?"

"Of course." Wade pulled Neville into his side. Wade wouldn't dream of leaving Neville alone, not when he was in such a vulnerable state. Not when there were people around who wouldn't think twice about messing with him while he's hurting this much. No one was going to hurt his King.

_No one._


End file.
